The Inferno
by Pseudinymous
Summary: The Inferno blazed and he was stuck in it, hopelessly in love and hopelessly hopeful. Up until this point he had never thought about committing such a golden error, but now it seemed to make every bit of sense. All other avenues to acquire Maddie's affections had failed. This... this was different.


**Author's Note:  
** Cute Maddie/Vlad bonding fic! … Or is it?

To be perfectly honest, I just really needed to write about Vlad.

* * *

 **The Inferno**  
 _A fanfic by Pseudinymous_

* * *

The roar of the ornamental fireplace did little to sooth the flames lit in Maddie's heart.

Flames of passion they were not, however. They were more like the flames of vengeance and fury, and as Vlad stared levelly into those lovely velvet eyes he realised just how dangerous she could be. But that's what attracted him to her. He had always loved Maddie, it was true, but now that he was half ghost and had rather a lot to lose, that's what truly fixated him upon her. In his youth he would travel the Ghost Zone and flit through disaster after disaster, but now the Ghost Zone feared _him_. It had become… boring.

Money had been the first thing he lost interest in. After acquiring rather a lot of it and making himself one of the richest men on the planet, Vlad still went out and did things to acquire more money, but the flavour was gone. The excitement was no longer there. It had become a _job_. How quaint.

Likewise, with all of this ghost business. The allure of rare, precious, and powerful objects still twinkled in the depths of his pupils, but that too was just work that needed to be done.

Maddie could never be work.

He gave her the sort of smile that was only worn by individuals who were sure they would be rewarded in the end. It took a great deal of arrogance to pull off something like that, but he did it anyway, as conceited as it may have been. He'd had the dentist prepare his teeth especially for this moment — whitened, removed of plaque, with a few all-but invisible fillings. "Maddie, my dear," he told her, hand held out and waiting. "Perhaps you would like to come with me?"

His hand kept on waiting. Maddie turned the direction of her blaze to the wall, scandalised face pointing towards a picture frame. When she seemed to realise that she was just looking at yet another Vlad, she huffed and shifted her attention to the window instead.

"We're not going to dance this little dance all day, are we?" Vlad asked.

"Vlad Masters, let me make this perfectly clear:" Maddie began. "If I could become a ghost to escape this situation, a creature that I hate above all else, _I would still do it_."

The Inferno blazed and he was stuck in it, hopelessly in love and hopelessly hopeful. Up until this point he had never thought about committing such a golden error, but now it seemed to make every bit of sense. All other avenues to acquire Maddie's affections had failed, and so he was going to use the very last weapon he had up his sleeve — gain her sympathy. Sympathy for what she had done to him. And from there, perhaps by a skilled craftsman she could be moulded to his will.

After all, Jack was out of the picture. They were both in their sixties. Less stood between them than ever before.

Vlad's smile vanished, and he allowed himself to look hurt, as vulnerable as that made him feel. He wasn't used to being totally at another's mercy, but here he was throwing himself into it, head-first. "Maddie," he began, and this time he was no longer charming, but bluntly serious. The humour had drained from his voice. "This isn't what you think it is."

"Oh, so you're _not_ trying to seduce me. Forgive me for thinking otherwise, you had a pretty rigid comedy act running for nearly two decades, there."

No, he couldn't be offended by her, not when he was so lost in her. The words flowed off him like a gentle waterfall that never quite touched the rocks underneath, disappearing into the pond below without even the faintest splash. He was too used to being rejected, too used to being toyed with, and it was the all-or-nothing moment where he might just be content for the fascinating torture to end, if things didn't go his way.

"This is about something that happened four decades ago," he said.

And just like that, the flares of vengeance disappeared from her, and she looked him in the face with terrified, dilated eyes. "The accident with the proto-portal?" she breathed, keeping that lungful of air for long enough to become stale. "You never spoke about it. Not in depth."

"I know, and there is good reason for that."

The tension inside him was building, now, as if his spine was the rope and his heart and brain were pulling at either end. Vlad could feel the blood pumping into his face, his heart started in a rush, his brain giving him an airy lightheaded feeling that could never be light enough to lift his mood. The inferno might have been gone for now, but she was still the doorkeeper to Hell, and he was asking her to dance.

"It turned me into a monster."

He let the words hang there, but he avoided the demonic looks he might have given his enemies. Instead he allowed himself an expression of hollow shock, as if he had things under control but he still couldn't believe that it had happened to him.

"You… you don't look like a monster," she said, quietly. "I know that ecto-acne is hard, but—"

"The ecto-acne was the least of my concerns," Vlad murmured. He was careful not to lean in — the last thing he wanted to do was startle the woman — but he didn't allow himself to move too far away, either. For this to be totally effective, it had to strike intimately. Tone of voice, expression, posture… it was all important. It would control her reactions. It would control her mind. "I know what it's like to be one of _them_."

He never wanted to see a look so terrified on a woman he loved so much, but when it played into his wishes so well, when her horror and guilt would form a mouldable fracture in her hardened, steel-plate defences, a part of him felt euphoria.

Vlad mirrored her expression, and shot a stream of ectoplasmic power through his arm. It fell out of phase, disappeared from human view, and then snapped back into vision with an electric crackle. All for effect. _All for effect_ …

… Maddie had backed away from him on the couch, astounded in fright.

"Please help me," he begged. "Please help me, Maddeline. The proto-portal did something to me, it was more painful than anything else I could ever imagine when it happened, but I don't think I can survive for much longer. I can feel myself fading, falling apart, _but I'm still human_."

No answer. His eyes were closed, now, partly for the facade and partly because he was too terrified himself to see her reaction. And in this he totally outdid himself — tears welled up in his sockets but didn't quite escape to his cheeks, giving his eyes a glassy look that showed both years of stoic discipline and a soul so broken that it now lay in little shards inside his chest.

"I'm not a ghost, I'm not, _I'm not one of them_!" he implored, a whispered plea. "I don't want to die like this."

Maddie had reeled, her fire doused. Though the inside had burned out, however, the singed remains were still warm, able to provide something to those stuck out in the chilly winter cold. Her face seemed aged now more than ever, but Vlad could still see its beauty. He would _always_ see it's beauty. For what was beauty if it was not Maddeline Fenton?

It was a slow motion, apprehensive and fearful, and even though the centuries have shorter lifespans it was enough for Vlad. Her hand came to a rest atop one of his angular shoulders, and with a sincerity that only she could ever achieve, she nodded.

"I'll help you," Maddie whispered, into the frigid air.

And Vlad felt a warmth he had never known before.


End file.
